


Forging Day Gift

by disdainfreely



Series: Requested Works [13]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Ambulon is awkward, Being in a gestalt is weird?, Dating a member of a gestalt is weirder, First Aid's Forging Day, Gestalt (Transformers), M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24565705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disdainfreely/pseuds/disdainfreely
Summary: Ambulon and First Aid have been dating for a bit, but First Aid's Forging Day is coming up, and Ambulon has no idea what to get him.Plus, he gets the feeling that First Aid's gestalt doesn't really like him, so that's not great.
Relationships: Ambulon/First Aid (Transformers)
Series: Requested Works [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1270631
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	Forging Day Gift

Ambulon has never considered himself an exceptionally demonstrative partner, but for First Aid, he can try. He can try. He has to try, he tells himself as he stares at the calendar in dismay. First Aid’s Forging Day is coming up, and Ambulon has no idea what he’s supposed to do.

What do Autobots do for that occasion? Ambulon knows what the Decepticons do (that is to say, nothing), but he has a feeling that Autobots might take the occasion a little more seriously. He could ask someone, but that would mean that he has to tell someone that he has no idea what he’s doing, and that thought is equally awful in a different way.

Then again, he and First Aid only got together because Cyclonus intervened in their horrifically awkward dance.

Fuck, they’re really bad at this.

Well, nothing to be done for it. He can think of something. He has to be able to think of something. He managed a ward under Pharma and now he manages a ward under Ratchet. If he can’t think of a Forging Day celebration for First Aid, literally no one can.

Right. One step at a time.

Step One: How much time does he have left? The calendar says he has three days. That’s enough time to come up with something, right? It has to be. Ambulon considers the raucous parties at Swerve’s and the times he’s seen Rewind and Swerve running across the ship to organize them. He winces.

A big party seems out of the question logistically with the time he has left. Not to mention a huge party ranks somewhere near the top of the list of Ambulon’s worst nightmares. So, no party. That’s not happening.

If no big party...then quiet get-together? With close friends?

So...First Aid’s gestalt and Ratchet and the medidrone. Ambulon can probably manage to get them together.

Hopefully.

The thought of going to talk to First Aid’s gestalt is terrifying. It’s not that they’ve been openly hostile or anything. They’re just...always watching. Ambulon doesn’t fully understand how a functioning gestalt works. His team was a failed combiner in all senses. They didn’t work together as mechs or as a combiner. First Aid’s gestalt, though...

They actually function. Which means Ambulon and First Aid’s relationship is suddenly incredibly relevant to way more mechs than just Ambulon and First Aid. Well, hopefully Ambulon can manage a Forging Day party, at least. Maybe that’ll soften them up and make them stop giving him those looks. He can’t tell if they’re supposed to be subtle or if they want him to know that they’re watching. 

...Maybe he shouldn’t include the gestalt.

No, he has to. He has to include the gestalt. He can do this.

“Hey, Ambulon!” 

Ambulon closes out the medbay staff calendar and looks up with a smile. “Hey, ‘Aid.” 

It’s hard to be stressed about just about anything, including First Aid’s Forging Day, when First Aid is smiling at him like that. 

“You’ll never guess what my gestalt just told me!” First Aid is practically bouncing with glee, coming over to slide his arms around Ambulon’s middle and receive a kiss on top of his head. Bonuses of a shorter boyfriend: head kisses are always easy to give.

“What?” Ambulon asks. “What did they tell you?”

“They planned a big party for my Forging Day!” First Aid gushes. Even with his facemask still on, Ambulon can tell that he’s beaming. “At Swerve’s! It sounds like they invited half the ship! Isn’t it exciting?”

Ambulon forces himself to smile. “That’s great, ‘Aid. It sounds like fun.” Fuck, it absolutely does not sound like fun, but First Aid is so excited that Ambulon could never bring himself to crush his joy. 

“Doesn’t it? It’s tonight! Groove didn’t think he could keep the secret long enough, and the bar is doing a weird theme night on my actual Forging Day. Ratchet said we could have the night off even though you had your shift scheduled. And he said he’d come! He’ll be the on-call if someone needs something. So you can come!” First Aid retracts his facemask and stretches up for a kiss. 

“Oh, that’s great, ‘Aid.” Ambulon kisses him. “Yeah, that’s...great. It’ll be fun.”

“Won’t it?” First Aid’s field is radiating excitement. “I know you’re still on shift, and I promised my gestalt I’d get ready with them, so I’ll leave you alone. Ping me when your shift is over, and we can go together?”

“Sure,” Ambulon says. What else could he possibly say? “I’ll talk to you then. Have fun.” 

First Aid grins and steals one more kiss before his mask snaps shut and he runs out the door.

Ambulon sinks into his desk chair.

Fuck.

Now he has no gift for First Aid and he has to go to a big party.

He has three days left. Three days to come up with a plan.

And maybe he can come up with some way to make First Aid’s gestalt stop hating him in the meanwhile. 

* * *

No, there’s nothing he can do that will make First Aid’s gestalt hate him less. Not a single thing. Not even a night of high grade gets them to stop side-eyeing him. It’s not that the party hasn’t been fun. It has been fun, or at least as fun as any large party can be. Ambulon’s gotten to see Rodimus dancing on a table, not for the first time. First Aid seems to have had the time of his life. He flits from group to group and hugging literally everyone who’s come. His gestalt has plied him with high grade that’s left First Aid happy and even more social than usual.

Even near the end of the night, sitting at the bar with a very tipsy First Aid giggling against his shoulder, Ambulon still can feel careful gestalt eyes on him from around the room. He hasn’t even done anything. Not that he can think of, anyway.

“This is the best Forging Day party ever,” First Aid says, visor overbright with energon. Ambulon considers asking him to engage his inhibitor chip, but he’s having a good time

“I’m glad,” Ambulon says, and he does mean it. It’s good to see First Aid happy. 

First Aid lifts his head off of Ambulon’s shoulder to stare at him. “I know you don’t like parties. I’m happy you came.”

“No need to get all serious, ‘Aid. It’s your party.” Ambulon kisses his head.

“I know, but Hot Spot said you wouldn’t come. So I’m happy you came.” First Aid bumps his face against Ambulon’s shoulder, like he’s trying to kiss him but has forgotten he has a mask. 

“Of course I came.” Ambulon gives Hot Spot a look from across the room. The larger mech quirks a brow at him. 

“I love you!” First Aid enthuses. 

“I love you too. You wanna go back to our hab?” Ambulon asks.

First Aid seems to think about that very seriously for longer than that kind of thought should take. “Are you gonna come with me?”

“Yeah, of course.” Ambulon kisses First Aid’s head again. “Let’s go.” 

“Yay!” First Aid throws his arms around Ambulon’s shoulders.

“Come on, ‘Aid. Let’s go.” Ambulon hefts his boyfriend up to his feet. First Aid nearly tips into his arms with a giggle. He’s heavy, both from being a Forged medic and being a combiner, and Ambulon struggles to keep him upright. 

“’Aid, you can’t hold your energon for shit.” Suddenly hands are helping Ambulon hold First Aid up and he looks up to see that Streetwise has come over and has his arms wrapped around First Aid’s middle.

“Can too!”

“No, you super can’t.” Streetwise gives Ambulon a grin. “Should we get him to bed?” 

It takes Ambulon longer than it should to respond. This is one of the first times that any member of First Aid’s gestalt has addressed him directly. If he didn’t know better, he’d say they were actively avoiding him. (He would actually say it, if he had anyone to say it to.) 

“Yeah, let’s get him tucked in.” 

With Streetwise’s help, Ambulon hefts First Aid up and out of Swerve’s. First Aid is hardly light, and though ‘Aid very much wants to be helpful, he certainly is anything but. Still, Streetwise’s help is enough to get First Aid down to the hab he shares with Ambulon and tucked safely into bed.

“You know,” Ambulon informs First Aid’s sleeping form, “you could have just engaged your FIM chip and then we wouldn’t have had to carry you.” 

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” Streetwise is grinning. “It’s his Forging Day. Let him have fun.” He pats First Aid’s shoulder. “Besides, I think we got some good video of drunk ‘Aid.”

“I’m sure.” Ambulon sits down on the edge of the bed and considers Streetwise, who seems chill enough. He may as well ask while he has the change. “Hey, are you angry at me for some reason? Your gestalt?”

Streetwise stares at him. “Why?” 

“It feels like you’re avoiding me. And giving me weird looks. And First Aid said Hot Spot said I wouldn’t come to his Forging Day party.” 

“Oh. OH. Well, uh...I mean, ignore that thing Hot Spot said. He was just. I don’t know. We know you don’t like big parties and stuff.” Streetwise shuffles awkwardly. “Anyway, no, we’re good.”

“So why aren’t you looking at me right now?” Ambulon asks skeptically. 

“No, it’s not...uh, c’mon, it’s really awkward.” Streetwise continues shuffling.

“I’m a medic. How awkward can it be?” 

“Well, I’m not! And it’s awkward!” 

Ambulon just holds steady, doing his best to copy Ratchet’s patented dead stare. It’s really impressive, and he’s not sure if he’s pulling it off, but Streetwise is starting to look more and more put on the spot. He must have some part of it right. 

“We know when you interface!” Streetwise blurts out. “First Aid’s not good at blocking off the gestalt bond so we know things and it’s weird!” 

Ambulon might keel over. He might die. This is it. Being sawed in half by Pharma was survivable, but he’s pretty sure this isn’t.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I told you it was awkward. So, uh, I’m gonna go. Thanks for taking care of ‘Aid. M’kay. Uh...bye.” Streetwise flees.

Ambulon can’t blame him. He wants to flee, and he’s sitting in his own hab. 

He hopes First Aid really enjoyed his party because Ambulon wants to throw himself into the oil reservoir filled with hungry scraplets.

* * *

“Did Streetwise really say that?” First Aid asks incredulously as he sets another completed datapad on the teetering stack. He doesn’t seem as horrified as Ambulon does at the thought that his gestalt knows when they interface. Maybe it’s a functioning gestalt thing, maybe it’s a First Aid thing. It’s hard to tell sometimes. Ambulon wants to die, but First Aid just goes on working his medbay shift like everything is very normal and he didn’t just wake up from being massively drunk and also like his gestalt brother didn’t tell his boyfriend they can tell when they’re hooking up.

“Yes! He said that!” 

“What did you ask him?” 

“What did I--I asked why they were being so weird around me!”

First Aid gives him an unimpressed look. “Is that really what you asked him at my Forging Day party?”

“After! After your Forging Day party!”

First Aid shakes his head, but Ambulon can tell he’s amused. “Okay. After my Forging Day party.” 

“I think I’m really bad at Autobot Forging Day celebrations,” Ambulon says. First Aid laughs.

“Yeah, you’re not great at them. But that’s okay. I like celebrating just you and me.” He leans in against Ambulon’s chest. “So...let’s celebrate.”

“We’re in the medbay, ‘Aid!” Ambulon says incredulously. “Someone could come in at any moment!”

“Yeah, but isn’t that what makes it fun?” First Aid’s mask clicks open so Ambulon can see his lips. 

It’s very hard to resist kissing him, but Ambulon can be strong. “Your gestalt is never going to let me live it down if we get caught ‘facing in the medbay.”

“No, they won’t,” First Aid agrees. “Not for a second. “

“Can you actually block it so they can’t tell we’re ‘facing?”

“I think so? I can try.” First Aid looks pensive. “It’s possible.” 

Well, the gestalt knowing isn’t ideal. It certainly wouldn’t be Ambulon’s first choice. But if his two options are having the gestalt know he’s interfacing with First Aid or never interfacing with First Aid again? His choice is more than obvious.

Ambulon considers it. “I’ll take my chances.” He slides his arms around First Aid and uses his greater height to heft his boyfriend up onto one of the exam tables. First Aid throws his arms around Ambulon’s neck with a yelp of surprise.

“Ambulon!”

“What? You said we were celebrating right here.” Ambulon grins and First Aid giggles and kisses him.

“I just didn’t expect you to actually go for the idea.”

“Well, it’s your Forging Day in two days. My ultimate gift to you is that if someone catches us, I’ll say it was my idea.” Ambulon kisses First Aid’s cheek.

“Oh, Ambulon, that’s the best gift anyone’s ever given me!” First Aid throws his arms around Ambulon’s neck and kisses him soundly. “You’re so thoughtful!” 

“If I’d known this was all I had to do, I would have worried much less about trying to find you a gift.” Ambulon kisses his way down First Aid’s neck and across his shoulders. 

“Oh, sweet thing,” First Aid croons. “You shouldn’t have stressed. You know all I want is you.”

Ambulon pauses to give First Aid a skeptical look. “You should have said that yesterday.”

“Well, should I make it up to you?” First Aid offers. He runs a hand down Ambulon’s chest, clever fingers pressing right against the seams of his chestplates. Ambulon catches his fingers and lifts them up to kiss them.

“Hm, no. This is your present. That means I give to you.” 

First Aid’s visor lights up. “I won’t say no.”

Ambulon grins. “I know.” He moves from where he’s been lingering at First Aid’s shoulder down to the center of his chest. When he kisses the warm metal there, he can almost taste the pulse of First Aid’s spark. “If I’m really being honest, this is the kind of party I was hoping for.” He feels First Aid’s fans stutter before roaring to life. “Just you and me.” He dares to dip his tongue into the small dip between First Aid’s chest plates and is rewarded with a squeal of his boyfriend’s engine.

“Good party,” First Aid says breathlessly. “Really, really good party.”

Ambulon laughs against First Aid’s chest and moves his way down until his vents are gusting hot air over First Aid’s panel. First Aid’s hands scramble for a grip on his shoulders. 

“You know I’m better one-on-one.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that.” First Aid’s panel pops open. “Really getting that. Taking lots of notes on that.” 

“Take lots of notes,” Ambulon instructs him. He doesn’t give First Aid any time to respond before his face is buried between his boyfriend’s thighs. 

“Ambulon!” 

The hands scrambling on his shoulders move to holding his head, pulling Ambulon in as close as possible. Ambulon chuckles and it earns him a startled yelp at the sudden vibrations. 

“Something wrong, ‘Aid?” He flicks his tongue out, catching the first droplets of lubricant he can see beading up around the edges of First Aid’s valve. He pauses for just long enough to hear First Aid’s fans start to slow down a little before he leans in and does it again. 

“Ambulon! Don’t tease!” First Aid protests. The pressure on Ambulon’s head becomes a little more insistent. “It’s not fair!”

“’Aid, when I start teasing you? You’ll know it,” Ambulon promises dryly. 

“I think I know it now!”

“Not even close.” Ambulon obeys the increasingly needy hands tugging at him and sets to work with enthusiasm. First Aid’s valve is hot and his lubricant is sweet on Ambulon’s tongue. When he presses his fingers in beside his tongue, First Aid practically chokes. He can hear his fans stuttering, trying to dump enough heat to keep him cool. It’s not working in the least.

“Hey, Ambulon?” First Aid gasps as Ambulon pulls back just enough to speak comprehensibly.

“Yeah, ‘Aid?” Ambulon doesn’t bother to remove his fingers. In fact, he spends a good long moment carefully scissoring them to stretch ‘Aid open and watch him squirm and press into the touch.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to be able to focus enough--” his voice rises into a squeak as Ambulon presses his fingers a little deeper, “--to keep my gestalt from knowing what we’re doing. You’re kind of distracting.”

Ambulon stretches himself up to kiss First Aid. “That distracting, huh?”

“Yeah. Definitely that distracting.” First Aid clutches at Ambulon, holding him as tight as he can. “We’re in the medbay and you’re ‘facing me and you’re good at it. What do you expect?” 

“I don’t know.” Ambulon kisses him again. “Never been in a functioning gestalt.” 

“So is it okay?” First Aid asks.

Ambulon quirks his fingers until First Aid keens. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s okay.” 

“Okay good. Now get to the good part,” First Aid insists.

“This isn’t the good part?” Ambulon grins until First Aid kisses him again.

“No, the good part is when you get your panel open and give me your spike. So let’s go.” He wriggles his hips.

“Okay, okay--” Ambulon pops his panel and takes a moment to vent before First Aid wraps his legs around Ambulon’s hips to pull him in. “Hey, let me get my hand out of the way!”

“You’re taking too long!” First Aid moans as Ambulon pulls his fingers free and gasps at the long, slow slide of Ambulon’s spike. “Oh fuck yes, oh fuck yes, oh fuck, oh fuck--” 

“There we go.” Ambulon nips at the struts of First Aid’s neck, catches the delicate wires there with just a hint of fang. “Oh fuck, you feel good.” 

“Then move!” First Aid digs his heels into Ambulon’s back

Ambulon considers some kind of snappy retort, but it’s so much more satisfying to just start moving and watch First Aid’s lips part on a moan. There’s a thousand things he could say to First Aid, how beautiful he is, how good he feels, how much Ambulon loves him, but they all catch in his vocalizer. 

“I know, sweetspark. I know,” First Aid says softly. He knows. He always knows. Ambulon kisses him. and buries his face in First Aid’s shoulder. “Come on.”

Ambulon’s hands fit perfectly on First Aid’s hips and their mouths press together like they were built for it. First Aid is gorgeous and Ambulon can feel sparks starting to crawl over both of their frames.

If First Aid’s gestalt is going to know every time they ‘face, Ambulon might as well give them something worth knowing. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck--” First Aid’s entire frame is tightening, his field starting to pulse with energy. 

“Come on, ‘Aid. Let me see you,” Ambulon says against his lips.

First Aid buries his face in Ambulon’s shoulder to muffle his cry as his overload hits. Ambulon feels it as much as he sees it; sparks crawl over First Aid’s frame and jump to Ambulon’s. First Aid’s entire frame tightens like a vise and Ambulon doesn’t have time to muffle his own cry as his overload tears through him.

It leaves both of them panting, vents still trying to dump air and failing.

“That was...that was an amazing Forging Day present,” First Aid says, his vocalizer still crackling with static. 

Ambulon laughs. “I liked it too.” He presses his forehead to First Aid’s for a long moment, letting their fields mingle in hazy satisfaction.

“Alright. Let’s get cleaned up.” First Aid gently pushes Ambulon back so he can close his panel with a shudder. “Before someone really does catch us.”

Ambulon is still a little shaky. “That would be...not great.” He carefully tucks his spike away and closes his own panel. There are some rather incriminating paint scrapes on both of them, but it’s one hundred percent worth it. 

First Aid laughs. “Can’t wait for next year’s Forging Day if this is going to be my present.”

“’Aid, we haven’t even gotten to your Forging Day this year. It’s still two days away, and if that’s the kind of present you want? I have many more plans.” 

“I can’t wait.”


End file.
